Eggs Benedict
by Liashi FNA Sora
Summary: When the man who taught Phil everything he knows shows up with a business deal for the ducks, our heroes aren't the only ones in for a wild ride. Final chapter is up.
1. Add One Boss and a Dash of Peppermint

**Eggs Benedict**

A MD:TAS short (haha) by Liashi, with some help from Alori, both of whom do not own the Mighty Ducks.

_For Confusion Add One Former Boss, a Dash of Peppermint, and Stir Well_  
_ Otherwise called Chapter One_  
_ In which, Nosedive attempts to cook._

* * *

Since the ducks had arrived and settled on Earth, (the hockey-playing, humanoid alien ducks, mind you,) it was a subject of discussion among some humans, hockey fans or not hockey fans, as to what the daily habits of them were. In time, certain savvy, business-minded television produces decided the harvest of this curiosity had to be reaped. So, one bright Anaheim day, a man and a woman came to discuss a business deal with the one human who had nearly exclusive access to the six ducks: Phil Pomfeather.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Mr. Pomfeather," the brunette lady said as she shook Phil's hand over his dark oaken desk.

"Uh, no problem, boobalaette." Phil nodded as she sat down. Then, Phil turned slightly and shook the man's hand. He had an overly-bright expression on his smooth-skinned face, and it looked like the expression might be stuck that way.

"Please . . . Just call me Peppermint," the lady said.

"Sure, Miss Peppermint. So Mr. Kitzing, long time no see," Phil said to the man, who was now also settled in a chair.

"Sure is, Phil. It seems like only yesterday you were my intern," Mr. Kitzing said, while Phil nodded. "Now that we're equals, why don't you just call me George? All my friends do."

"Wow, thanks George!" Phil looked pleased, and George smiled in a self-satisfied way. "I remember everything you ever taught me about business, you know."

"Wheeling and dealing?" Asked George, with the raising of an amused eyebrow. His gaze was locked onto Phil's, and his mouth was set in a half-grin. The gaze and grin was of a kind that might lead a detached observer to conclude that the two were sharing some sort of in-joke. In reality, the both of them just took their business methods so seriously that it was an in-joke.

"Yep," Phil said, knowing that he had put these irreplaceable skills to use every day of his life since George had taught him.

"Exposé and exaggeration?" George continued.

"Yep."

"Deceptions for the greater good?"

"Can't live without 'em."

"Scheming?"

"Always!"

"Dreaming?"

"No doubt."

George paused. "Succeeding?"

"Yes," Phil said with the same strong assurance of his other answers. Then, he smiled weakly. "Well, I mean . . . when I can."

George nodded then leaned back in his chair. His expression smoothed. "The ducks could be much bigger, Phil," he said, "Much bigger."

Phil sighed. "I know, I know. But if you had to work with these birds . . . well, I don't know who would win, I really don't!" He shook his head. "And we both know you're the best in this business. I never forgot that time you got the actual first lady to play herself in that reality television gig of yours. It was golden. I don't know if we'll see such an achievement again this millennium."

"Yes. . . ." George said to himself with another half smile. "And the five hundred millions I made out of the deal wasn't too shabby, either." After a moment, however, he returned his attention to Phil. "You know, speaking of business, that's actually why I'm here."

"Oh?" Asked Phil.

"Yes, you see," Peppermint said, after catching George's gaze briefly, "There's a question on everyone's mind these days . . ."

". . . What are the ducks really like when they're not on the ice?" George finished.

"Well, I've already proposed making a TV show out of their life, but. . . ." Phil sighed, motioning to the side of the room, where a new floor-to-ceiling window (installed after the last trashing of the Pond by Dragaunus) allowed for a view of the ice rink. The ducks were practicing, skating about, passing, taking shots on Wildwing with the speed and accuracy that made them famous. "They thought it wouldn't sell and refused before I could even suggest it to any TV producers."

"Oh, Phil, you didn't really believe that, did you?" George leaned foward with a critical look on his face.

Phil shrugged. "They're always turning me down. I only bother pursuing when I think I can convince them, and that? They ripped my proverbial head off at the very suggestion!"

"Surely they're nothing but camera shy, Phil! Why, I bet they'd really enj0oy it if you just got them used to the idea."

"Yes," said Peppermint, "I used to be so afraid of the cameras." She put a hand on George's arm. "But Mr. Kitzing, here, he cured me."

"How's that?" said Phil, curiosity in the lift of his brow.

"Well, you see, I followed her around with a camera while she didn't know it," George explained, "And later I showed her the tape."

"It made me realize that it wasn't so bad after all," Peppermint said.

"Nice," Phil said with a nod. "But who would tape the ducks?" He threw out his arms, exasperated. "I mean, they don't just let random people into their headquarters, c'mon!" A silence followed as George and Peppermint stared straight at Phil.

"What? Me?" Phil pointed at himself, then waved his hands. "Boobies, boobies, I can't work a camera!"

"Oh Phil, don't you remember all that camera work I taught you?"

"I—I guess," Phil said, "But . . . Well, I haven't touched a camera in years!"

George grinned. "I'm sure you'd brush right back up. I have plenty of people who could help you."

"I . . . " Phil looked out at the Ducks again, running a hand through his hair. _Those ducks,_ Phil thought, _when I started with them, I promised myself I'd make them the biggest name in business! But no . . . they always have more important things . . . like saving the world! If the show was all ready to go, it'd be a whole lot easier to convince them. I just can't pass this up! It could be the big break!_

Phil turned back to George, decision made. " . . . So. If I'm gonna be going to all this trouble . . . What's in it for me?"

* * *

"Hey, guys," Nosedive began as the Ducks neared the end of practice. He came to quick stop that sprayed quite a bit of ice. "Have you noticed that Phil's been up in his office this whole time with those two humans?"

"Yeah, he has, hasn't he?" Duke said, likewise stopping to look up into Phil's office. The duck frowned, his real eye narrowing. "I smell another stinky business deal."

"So, whaddya think he'll make us do this time?" Nosedive tried to get a quick slap shot past Wildwing. A human goalie might have jumped out of the way for fear of the puck's speed, but Wildwing just chuckled as he blocked it.

"Sorry, Dive, that lacked all surprise."

Nosedive glanced over and shrugged, quickly returning his attention to Phil's office.

"He do whatever he hasn't tried yet, probably," the Duck's right wing, Mallory, said. The sarcasm was clear in her harsh tone.

"Like what?" Nosedive skated back to get another puck.

"Nothing, that's what," she said. "Personally, I don't think he's creative enough to pull anything he hasn't already."

"I'd rather not underestimate him," Wildwing said after Nosedive tried another shot, with no success.

"Yes . . . " Grin nodded. "For a human, he has a conniving mind." Of course, he didn't even need to be the most philosophical member of the group for everyone to agree to that.

* * *

"Okay, so we split three way, I get free camera lessons and equipment and also . . . A date with Peppermint?"

Phil looked up at the elegant lady. "I hate to ask this again, but: you really want to go on a date with me? Would you mind if I wondered why? I mean, I try to look good but—" he smooth his brown hair with a hand and straightened his pants, "—I know I'm not the most good-looking guy out there . . . surely a lovely lady like yourself could, y'know—do better, I guess."

He was finding himself unusually embarrassed and maybe even humbled that such a pretty woman might have the slightest interest.

"Well," Peppermint flapped a hand, her eyes sparkling with good humor. "We thought it would sweeten the deal for you, and besides," she added with an actually honest-looking smile and blush, "I've always thought fat men were . . . Cute." She leaned forward and put a long-fingered hand onto Phil's, which was laying on the desk. Phil gaped. "So, what do you say?"

Phil began to pinken. He put his free hand on his wide girth. "I've been on a diet but, uh . . . anything for you, girl."

"It's settled then," George said, making it a statement and not a question. To this, Phil nodded.

Peppermint glanced at the watch on her wrist. "Sir, your director's meeting is in an hour."

George stood. "I'm afraid we've got to run, but I'm expecting big things, Phil."

"No problem!" Phil gave a thumbs up as the two swept out, Peppermint throwing back one last arch smile over her shoulder. When the door had closed behind them, he rubbed his hands together. "No way I'm letting this one go now! I've got a date, and I'm gonna make a mint. Ooooh, Phil you have really outdone yourself this time!"

* * *

"So, care to spill, Phil?" Nosedive said as Phil entered the locker room where the team was changing after practice. "What's the crazy plot this time?"

Phil sighed inwardly. He knew he needed to sound the Ducks out, and discover whether they suspected anything of his plan yet, but he didn't look forward to running this gauntlet. "What's what?"

He had to play innocent if he wanted to pull this one off, he supposed. But he couldn't come off as hiding something, either. Double sigh.

"What's your next _wonderful_ publicity stunt?" Nosedive clarified more bluntly as put his stick back on the locker room rack.

"Nothing, really . . . I mean . . . " Phil rifled through his long personal list of convenient excuses for something suitable. "I was trying to see if I could wheedle that guy on giving me a better deal on this car he was selling. He's, uh, actually an old friend." _That's right,_ Phil congratulated himself. _The best lies are based in truth, after all._

"You spent all that time trying to . . . buy a car." Nosedive didn't sound like he believed this, and from the looks on the rest of the ducks' faces, they didn't either.

Drat. Time to bring the fake up a notch.

Phil glared at them a moment determinedly, then pretended to break down. "Okay, I confess, he's also an agent for this company who's developing fake eyes that people can really see with and they wanted Duke to model. Y'know, just a temporary exchange of his fake eye for theirs. Although they said you could keep it if you like it." Phil sidled up to Duke and hoped he looked hopeful enough. "What a deal! So, whaddya say, Duke, old pal?" He put a hand on Duke's shoulder and grinned big.

"Tempting . . . But no. Definitely no." Shrugging off Phil's hand, Duke turned and slammed his locker shut.

Phil sighed gustily, letting his shoulders slump. "I knew it. That's why I didn't even want to say. Well, don't feel bad, it's your life I guess, boobie, I'm just that guy who makes you do stupid stuff. . . . " Phil turned to exit, moping as well as he could manage when he really was on pins and needles to see how thoroughly they were buying it.

"Phil . . . " Duke said, now putting a hand on Phil's shoulder. "Look, man, it's just that you manage to come up with the weirdest stuff, and whatever is not weird always goes haywire. So, before some mad scientist decided to get pushy and do experiments on my eyes, I'm saying no. It's not you."

"I know. It wasn't that great of a deal anyway. I've got to . . . to uh, get my computer organized, so, see ya 'round." Phil waved and left the locker room.

"That was too easy," Duke said after Phil had gone. The ducks glanced at each other, unsure of what exactly felt wrong about the last exchange (it had sounded typical enough,) but not able to quite lay a feather on it. Phil, meanwhile, hurried away, satisfied that they he'd misdirected them enough to go forward without too much more suspicion.

* * *

Two weeks later, Phil had finished brushing up his camera skills, (maybe he should have gone into that business.) He'd also attended real lessons from a so-called ex-spy so he would be better at hiding . . . hopefully. Boy, had that lady's stare been scary. He guessed he tips had been helpful, though.

The only question in his mind was whether the ducks:  
A) Actually already knew what he was up to and were waiting to get the jump on him or,  
B) Would figure it out and totally ruin everything.

They'd commented once this week that he never seemed to be around, but had said nothing more. In any case, it was time, and he would do his darndest to get a stunt right for once. Phil was readying himself for his first day on the job while the sky outside was still dark, without a trace of dawn on the horizon.

"Extra film, check," Phil made a mark on a list. "Special lenses, check. Uh . . . Thingy . . . check. Extra batteries, check." He sighed and zipped his bag shut, then straightened his tie. "I feel more like I'm gonna go rob something than tape the ducks in action. But here goes." Phil locked the door of his apartment behind him. If things went well, he wouldn't be back until tomorrow night.

When he arrived at the private quarters of the Pond—the duck's secret headquarters, under the Anaheim ice rink—it was early, and not even the early risers were awake yet. Phil yawned as he prepped his equipment. Yesterday, while the ducks were out fighting that lizard dude—again—he had finished rigging most of the security cameras in the building to feed into his camera, all controlled by a special computer. It even had a remote control, and had been graciously provided by George.

It was hard work, but it meant Phil had extra points on his diet plan from all the extra exertion. Then again, who cared? These days, the diet plan was becoming less and less important every time he saw Peppermint. . . . Which had been twice in the last two weeks. Oh Peppermint. Sigh. He was starting to believe she was sincere about liking him!

Right. Anyway, to business. Those ducks had a lot of cameras. Phil still wondered how well this would work, yet the only thing he had to ask himself: Do you want that money and the girl or not Phil Pomfeather? Yes? Then go to it, and _action_!

* * *

Deep in the bowels of a strange collection of entertainment items, video games, and comic books, a sleeping teenage duck began to stir. Something was amiss. It was far too early for this Duck to be up at only 5:30 AM.

Nosedive raised his arm just enough to see his watch. "Must . . . sleep more. . . . " He mumbled, turning over and thinking seeing this time on his watch rather odd. But what had stirred him at first was about to stir him again.

"Grrrrr. . . . " Nosedive's stomach said.

"I knew I shouldn't have let Grin have that extra slice of pizza," Nosedive groaned, now rousing, sliding off his bunk and to the floor. "Ah, Cold feet, cold feet!" Nosedive skipped and hopped until he got his boots on. "Whew. Man, early mornings bite."

After changing his clothes and debating whether to brush his shoulder-length blond hair this morning: "Nah, did it three days ago. Tomorrow will do." Nosedive headed out to the main kitchen, luckily—or perhaps unluckily—unaware that someone was watching.

This kitchen itself was spacious but of a utilitarian design. It had an island in the center, around which were barstool chairs. The toaster was inset in the middle of this island, as well as was the blender base. The stove burners were not part of the island, rather, they were part of the half-circle of fidge, sink, countertop, burners, and paired double-stacked stoves around the island.

"Let's see, leftovers . . . No . . . doughnut . . . For once I don't feel like having it-" He paused. With a shake of his head, he leaned again into the fridge. "Nothing microwaveable that I want! Okay, what's easy to make-ah-ha!"

Nosedive pulled out a carton of chicken eggs and held them over his head. "Monsieur Nosedive," he said in a French accent, "Your eggs will taste the supurbist! No other chef can compare!" Walking over to the sink, he pulled out two and washed them.

Still holding the two eggs in one hand, Nosedive pulled out a pan, and a bowl to crack them into. "Now lessee. . . . " What was the next step? Oh right, butter in the pan. Drat. He'd forgotten it.

Eggs in one hand and carton in the other, Nosedive walked over to the fridge, figuring he'd put away the egg while he was at it. Upon arriving, he realized that both hands were full. _Well,_ he thought, _I can probably open it while holding the eggs._ Carefully, he reached for the fridge handle. Three seconds later, the eggs he had been planning to eat were well cracked and scrambled, but on the floor.

"Rats. . . . " Nosedive stared down at his broken eggs, then opened the carton back up and slid it across the counter so it would be closer to the stove when he returned with the butter. Little did he realize how far off the edge it hung it now stuck out on the other side. He was preoccupied with cleaning up the mess, knowing that if he didn't he'd be in for an annoying lecture. He had just picked most of the eggshells up when he realized that someone was coming.

Instinctively, Nosedive dove behind the counter. He peeked over it a second. It was Mallory. As she approached the refrigerator, Nosedive wondered if he should warn her about the eggs still on the floor. The other duck didn't seem to have noticed it. Nervous, Nosedive moved around the counter to make sure he wasn't seen. A wicked grin bloomed on his face as he thought: _Then again, it's Mallory. Why bother?_

Nosedive could barely suppress his laughter when she shrieked and slipped with a thud. The resulting vibrations caused the open carton of eggs fell to fall onto Nosedive's head. Eggs broke open with crunching splats. Nosedive yelped and stood up as egg ran in his hair, and down his beak. When Mallory's shocked gaze met his, he realized this had not been very well planned.

Naturally, of course, she assumed this was one of Nosedive's _oh-so-clever_ pranks. . . .

Which it half was.

It was at this exact moment that Duke entered, got a good look at the situation, blinked, turned, and left. If either duck had been next to him, they would have heard him mutter disdainfully: "Here we go again."

"Nosedive . . . !" Mallory yelled, getting up to attack, then slipping again. Egg matted farther into her healthy crop of red hair and smeared over her bathrobe. "Ow! Nosedive, you are a dead duck!"

"Hehehe . . . Oops?"

Duke locked himself in his room, glad that the walls were slightly soundproof. He decided to go back to bed.

* * *

Phil wiped his face. Why did it have to be so warm in here?

He was currently hiding inside the main kitchen's island countertop, which was basically just a hollow shell. This was so that Tanya could easily service the toaster and blender base that she'd inset.

But of course, since they'd been eating breakfast, they'd been toasting. A lot. And it was making Phil rather toasty himself.

The past months . . . Hours, he meant hours! . . . Had gone well. With his handy-dandy hi-tech laptop thing, he'd gotten great shots of the ducks being really normal. George would love it. Especially that one where Mallory slipped on the eggs. Beautiful shot. He could even see himself narrating a few words on Mallory's and Nosedive's relationship, which had always been a bit antagonistic and looked to stay that way.

If the ducks would just finish breakfast then he could relax. The walls were so close. . . . Maybe he'd diet while on this project, then forget about it.

"Hey, has anybody seen Phil today?" A now calmer, cleaner Mallory asked. Phil looked to his monitor screen, immediately on edge. They were suspicious. Not good.

Wildwing shook his head. "This is the last Friday of the month, right? It's his day off."

"Never stops him from showing up," Duke said dryly, shoving his bowl aside and picking up his coffee.

"Why, Mallory?"

"I don't know . . . It's just odd to me, I mean, he hasn't been around much lately. And he hasn't proposed any publicity stunts this week. It bothers me."

"I'm sure there's an explanation."

In his hiding spot, Phil moaned, then remembering where he was, clapped a hand over his mouth. Fortunately, not one of the ducks looked like they'd heard that. Pulling his paper out, he jotted down: "Propose ridiculous stunt so they won't get suspicious." Thinking about it, he erased "so they won't get suspicious"—what if he lost the paper and they found it? Boy, those spy lessons had got to him. He was thinking way too logically.

That night Phil slept in his hiding spot, figuring the less he went in and out of his hiding spot, the less likely it would be discovered. It was much more quiet in the Pond than that apartment complex in which Phil lived. The neighbors below him had teenage boys. (Just his luck.) Even for being cramped, he slept well and woke early. Trying to itch his shoulder, he switched all the cameras and monitors he was using to the duck's private rooms. Yes, they had installed cameras in their rooms. Phil figured it was only a security measure, because he never saw the ducks reviewing those tapes. Otherwise—creepy!

First he looked at what Dive was doing. Sleeping . . . Okay . . . Wildwing, hmm, reading, Mallory somewhere else, Grin meditating, Tanya somewhere else, Duke . . . Now here was something interesting.

"Yeah, so when do you want me?" Duke, oddly enough, was talking on the telephone.

"Ten, after the museum closes, two weeks from now, Friday. Got it." He paused. "Whaddya mean are you sure?" Another pause. Duke snorted. "I got plenty of look at the security and architecture. I'm telling you, I already have it all worked out."

What? Phil's eyes widened. Did that imply what Phil thought it implied? Duke was a former—or maybe _still_—a jewel thief, and he was going to go rob a museum. _Hadn't he gone straight though?_

Furthermore, hadn't there already been an episode where that was in question, and he'd proven he was a changed duck?

Though a conversation like this definitely did not sound good. Phil chewed at his bottom lip.

"Target? No prob. Right . . . What's a thief for? Talk to you later." He hung up and began to leave the room. "Time to get ready for my big heist," Duke grinned to himself.

That was definitely not the statement of someone innocent. Phil pulled at his tie, now under a moral dilemma. "Oh maaaan . . ." he muttered to himself. "I can't just not tell anyone. If he really pulls it off, I'd be aiding and abetting . . . and if the police ever found out . . . I'd be arrested! But what if the ducks figure out how I knew? Then my deal with George could be off! They'd never let me go through with it!" Wait. What if Peppermint dumped him on top of it all? "Money and girls or doing the right thing . . . ?"

* * *

Sadly, money and girls won over morality. Not really surprising, given the nature of Phil Pomfeather. Now where was this story? Oh yeah. . . .

Phil showed up at the game late, that night. He was not his usual self. He watched with the same expression, except a panicked look he took on intermittently a misplaced moments. The ducks hadn't struggled to win once.

Tanya skated up to him during one of the breaks, giving him a concerned look.

"Phil, are you okay?"

"What? Me? No, I didn't! I was under pressure I tell you, I couldn't help it!" Phil yelled, waving his arms. A few of the nearby humans and ducks stared at him.

Tanya cringed, then said slowly, "Maybe you should tell me, er, someone else, what's ha-happ-going on. You know, stress really isn't that good for you."

Phil put his head in his hands and began moaning. Tanya raised an eyebrow, then shook her head. "Hey," she said, feeling sorry for Phil, "Whatever it is, I bet it'll come out okay."

"Come out?" Phil looked more depressed. "No it won't. The way things are going I'll never be rich, and I'll lose my girlfriend."

Tanya was nonplussed. "You . . . have a girlfriend?"

"Peppermint." Phil was almost happy for a moment, before deflating. "But she'll hate me forever if I—if I don't—" He began tearing up.

Tanya shifted on her skates, now even less certain how to deal with Phil than when she'd stopped. "Um. I see. Hm."

"What's wrong with him?" Wildwing said, stopping by the bench. The rest of the team followed.

"Well, uh, he's worried about losing his girlfriend or something."

"Oh, haha, I get it now, Phil-mister. The reason you've been MIA is a feminine attraction. We've been wonderin'." Nosedive grinned.

Phil lifted his head, a bit taken aback. "I—yeah, that's why. I guess I forgot to mention it."

Nosedive gave him shocked look. "Watch out people, his head is in the clouds! Better stay away, it could be catching." He skated off.

"So that's what's been going on." Wildwing set his arms akimbo. "Explains a lot," he said, half to himself.

"Why do you think she would dump you?" Grin asked.

"Maybe she wouldn't, but without you guys agreeing to do my publicity stunts and to let me take some cuts, my savings remain a one-man gig. I'm barely making my apartment payments. There's no way I can support a lady who deserves all the luxuries in the world!" said Phil. He knew he was bluffing about _why_ she'd dump him, but the rest of it was true anyway. He was finding himself "head-over-heels" for Peppermint. And he was rather poor. He looked to them sadly. Were they buying it?

Wildwing sighed that way he always did when Phil was getting on his soft side. "Alright, alright, what do you want? What's the next stunt?"

"The fact of the matter is, I don't have one. Between dating Peppermint and all the work it's taken to keep this rink running, I haven't had time to look for any deals that would appeal to you guys."

"I tell you what. Since you've been so busy lately, whatever publicity stunt you come up with next, we'll do it," Wildwing said. "And you can have a cut."

Phil began looking rather like a hopeful puppy, waiting for the expected treat. "Really 'Wing? You mean it?"

"Whoa, whoa, time out," Mallory objected. "How can you say that? Remember what happened the last time we agreed to do something for him?"

Wildwing shrugged. He put a hand up to shield from Phil what he was saying to the team. "I hate to say it, but we've gotta make sure Phil can make a living too. I mean . . . " He paused. "If Phil's got a girlfriend, maybe he'll finally get a life—and stop bothering ours!"

Everyone began nodding in understanding. "Alright, do it Wing," Duke said.

Wildwing turned to Phil. "I do have a few conditions."

Phil jumped up from the bench. "Name it, and you've got it."

"One." Wildwing held up a thick-gloved finger. "It can't be a stunt that anyone could get hurt on, like that extreme TV show; and two, it can't make us tangle with Dragaunus or anyone else we'll end up fighting with." Wildwing poked Phil in the chest. "Got it?"

"Aw totally babe, you've made my day, my month, my year. You're the greatest, Wing." Phil grinned and pointed to the rink, taking on the air of a coach. "Now you guys get out there and play hockey!"

"No way," said Wildwing, shaking his head.

"What!"

"Kidding Phil, kidding. C'mon, guys."

Except for that close call, Phil could not have been more pleased. He'd hold Wildwing to his word. Oh, yes, he would.

What was better, Duke hadn't come after him with threats, or with that big sword of his yet, so Phil figured that Duke didn't know that Phil knew what Phil knew. He was safe. Forget those moral obligations. He could say the footage had been automatically recorded and only reviewed later! What would the police know about it?

Besides, if Duke actually did anything, network television would be reporting him, and he wouldn't get away with it.

But . . .

No, he was going to ignore that continuing twinge of conscience. There wasn't anything more he could do. It was all coming together now. The next big Mighty Ducks promotion: _Mighty Ducks, the Inside Story_—or whatever those TV producers made Phil call it.

* * *

Hm, you think it's going to get better from here? Next chapter to be posted on Monday, and the conclusion next Thursday. CC is very welcome. Tell me what you think. Thanks!


	2. Victims of Circumstance

Eggs Benedict

Chapter Two: Victims of Circumstance  
In which, Phil starts digging up some things . . . he rather would know?

* * *

It was another two weeks later. Taping continued to go well. A warm night breeze blew up from the glittering city of Anaheim as Phil and Peppermint strolled to a bench on the mountain overlook, holding hands. They each settled down and just looked out for a bit. This was their fourth date. Number four! Phil found himself in a serious mood. Was this real? Hey. She'd never been married, was allergic to dogs, loved to garden, and seemed genuine. Simple. Maybe even honest. That was rare this side of Hollywood. She loved kids and Phil didn't, but maybe they could work it out. After years of being ignored by women, suddenly he was dating, and wasn't even paying her to do it. Phil was so used to wheeling and dealing that he wasn't sure he was doing this "romancing" thing right.

"Hey, Peppermint?"

"Yeah Phil?" Peppermint's ginger-snap eyes blinked at him. Sigh. "I'm just . . . what is it you like about me?"

She smiled. "If I tell you that, then you have to tell me what you like about me."

"Of course," Phil said, putting an arm around Peppermint.

"Well," she began, "You're cute and funny-"

"Really?"

"At least to me," she said. "And you appreciate me, and I can talk to you about the business world without feeling talked down to. You know how rare that is? . . . Okay, now you."

"I uh-" Phil stopped when his watch beeped. "Not now," he grumbled, checking the time.

"What is it?"

"I-I'm afraid I need to get home, sweetheart. I have to be at the Pond early tomorrow. Something big is happening."

"It's alright Phil, don't look so down."

"I also need you to get a tape to George tomorrow. That something big is mentioned on the tape, and I realized it would be a good idea to let him in on what's happening so far."

"Why are you so worried about it? I thought you had Wildwing sign a paper promising to do your next publicity stunt."

"I did," Phil said, "But this is different. I'm not worried exactly about what it will do to the publicity stunt. Wildwing signed the written agreement; I don't think he expects anything that big. He'll be surprised I guess. You know I haven't told him yet."

Phil looked out over Anaheim, silently criticizing himself. He may have done one thing right, getting Wildwing to sign on his agreement, but he'd spent two whole weeks before he realized how he could get what Duke was up to off his conscience.

_Did he have to pick when all this is going on for me to rob something?_ Phil thought. _Does he have no sympathy? I wish I'd thought of asking George earlier. For all I know, there'd be some legal junk that wouldn't let him use the footage. There was always something like that._

"Hey," Peppermint grinned teasingly after seeing Phil's continuing worried expression. "Don't worry, those Ducks won't stand in our way forever!"

The two laughed together, albeit that Phil's laughter was mostly nervousness. He didn't appreciate irony when he was the one in the middle of it. "I'll drop ya right off at the front door." Phil said.

"It's the least you owe me for a fun night, Phil Pomfeather!" She chased Phil to the car, and Phil allowed that to also chase his worries away.

* * *

When the car drove off, all was silent and peaceful for a moment. Then, something in the underbrush snapped, and a deep red scaled saurian stepped out of the bushes. He looked like a large, overstuffed lizard. Unmistakable, seeing as no earth lizard was this big. Earth lizards didn't talk or carry blasters, either.

The Saurians had a scale to pick with the ducks. Centuries ago, when the saurian race had been a large and powerful empire, the Saurians had had the ducks as their slaves. Then, a duck by the horrid name of Drake DuCaine had sent them all to a place called "dimensional limbo," destroying their empire. To this day, only one saurian had escaped, with three henchmen, by use of a gateway generator. They had been so close to conquering the galaxy after their escape, when a team of seven ducks had forced them to crash-land on this planet called earth. Now, Dragaunus and his three companions could only struggle to defeat the ducks and regain their rightful place oppressing the people of entire planets.

And with such things on his mind, that was what this saurian was here for.

"Stupid nature," he muttered, flicking a few twigs off of his scales and blast suit. Thoughtfully he fingered his energy rifle as he watched the car of the two humans vanish around a bend. Then he hit his comm, and the image of another saurian appeared.

"Yes, Siege?" the he asked.

"Lord Dragaunus," Siege began, "The two have gone."

"What do you mean gone? You were supposed to capture them both." Smoke came from Dragaunus's nostrils. "There better be a good reason why you didn't carry out my orders."

Siege was quick to attempt to placate his lord. This was a good idea, really evil, and Dragaunus would like it. "Well, I overheard them talking, and the manager was saying he had to be at the Pond early tomorrow, because something was happening."

"Really? What?" Dragaunus sounded almost annoyed, which meant he probably was annoyed. He would have to carefully win Dragaunus over now.

"That's what I couldn't find out. They left too soon." Siege said, with a cringe that he covered over well.

"And that's all? You wreck my plan on purpose for that? Get back to the Raptor at once, so I can pound you flat!"

"Now hold on, Lord Dragaunus," Siege said, "What if the ducks got suspicious because the manager Phil was supposed to be there and wasn't? Then having those humans might help the ducks find us. They probably have him bugged." He walked towards the bench where Phil and Peppermint had sat. He bent and picked up a delicate bracelet, then held it up so Dragaunus could see. "Check this out." Siege said.

Dragaunus's expression remained flat. "It's a piece of worthless jewelry."

"Not just any piece of jewelry, lord. This belongs to the other human that Pomfeather seems so fond of. I saw it drop off her wrist."

Dragaunus was frustrated. "Your point, please?"

"She'll want to come back for it, Pomfeather gave it to her," Siege read the words on the inside of the bracelet. "'For Pepper, smooches and love, Phil.'"

"I see." A pause. "What horrible mush."

"If she comes back for it, she'll probably be alone. If only she disappears, the ducks won't conclude as fast that we're behind it. I doubt she's bugged. That will give us time to find out what she knows about the ducks, and to formulate a ransom notice. So the rest of your plan can go forward all the same."

"Yes . . . excellent." Dragaunus said. "I've changed my mind. Good work, Siege. I'm sending along the Chameleon with your breakfast for tomorrow. Wait there until she returns, then bring her to the Raptor."

"As you wish, my lord," Siege said, shutting the connection off. Chameleon was coming? This was gonna be one long night.

* * *

Phil rubbed his eyes, then blinked and flexed his eyebrows. It was still dark. The morning air in his apartment was damp and cool, reflecting the atmosphere outside. It had been raining since he got up. Though the rain was needed, Phil didn't like it. It came in the apartment window that was stuck open. It made his gel run. Once it had even shorted out his cell phone.

Phil started as his cell phone rang. "Hello?" Phil tried to suppress a yawn.

"Hi Phil, it's Peppermint."

"Hey! How's it going?"

"I know you need to be at the Pond soon, but you know the bracelet you gave me? I can't find it. I just realized I wore it to the restaurant but it wasn't on my wrist when I got home. Could you check your car?"

"Sure, I was heading that direction," Phil said, "I can look for it right now." Hastily pouring his cereal down the garbage disposal and snapping a lid on his coffee, he shoved all the papers he needed for the day into his briefcase, grabbed a flashlight, and left his apartment.

Ten minutes later, a thorough search of his car found nothing except a moldy doughnut. "Do you want me to go search the overlook?" Phil said.

"No, that's okay Phil," Peppermint answered, "I'll just drive there on my way to work."

"Then I'll look in the restaurant," he said.

"That's alright Phil, I'm going by that place too."

"Oh. . . . I see. Well I'll get going then."

"That's my man. Have a good day at work. Take some juicy shots."

"Sure thing. Call me if you don't find it."

"Alright, bye Phil."

"Hold it! You giving that tape to George? Tell him to call me after he sees it."

"Okay, it's in the back of my car! Later!" She hung up. Phil buckled himself in his car and turned the radio on. "Man, that bracelet looked really good on her," he said, then frowned. "And it cost me fifty bucks to get it engraved, too!"

* * *

Peppermint was frustrated and wet when she got out of the car at the overlook. The nerve of some people, driving by so fast that she got drenched in front of the restaurant.

She jerked the keys out of the ignition and got out, wobbling a little in her high heels on the muddy and rock-paved ground. She paused to open her umbrella and stare at a truck stopped at the side of the road. Then, she trudged to the bench where the mud was even worse, looking for anything golden. At a heavy squelching sound, she turned to see a middle-aged man.

"Hey, I'm really sorry to bother you an' all ma'am, but my truck's dead," he told her, jerking a thumb back at the truck. "Is there anyway you could give me a jump?" She blinked at him. "Yeah, I guess. Have you seen a bracelet anywhere around here?"

"Does it say anything?"

"Uh . . . " She blushed a little but was determined to find it. "To Pepper, smooches and love, Phil."

The man nodded with a sympathetic smile. "I saw it in the mud nearby when my truck died. I picked it up and cleaned it. It's in the truck. Come with me." The man ambled over, Peppermint following. She stood waiting while he opened the door and reached in. "Here's your bracelet," He pulled his hand back out, his voice suddenly became high and thin. "And a nice new saurian blaster."

The umbrella fell from her hands as she stepped backwards and tripped into someone. She screamed. Scaled hands clenched over her mouth. She fought, then desperately began spitting on the hands, because they were too big to bite. The hands pulled away.

"Ew, she licked me, gross!" A rough voice said. Peppermint tried to run, but the man grabbed her arm and dug his nails in.

"Going somewhere, my dear?" The man's nails became claws. Another scaled hand. Then Peppermint caught full sight of both of them.

"W-what are you things?"

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Pond Phil had just finished taping a note on his office door. "Gone on campaign trail for publicity," it read, "Be back when I get a few bites. Stay sharp! -Phil . . . Oh and if anyone sees that bracelet I got engraved, let me know. Peppermint lost it last night."

Then, he walked off to his hiding spot for another day on the job as resident spy. He'd moved since his first spot. Now he had positioned himself in what looked like an unused closet. It was also warm and smelled like dust inside, but it was bigger than his first spot. The only thing Phil didn't like was its close proximity to the ready room, where the ducks spent a lot of their time.

The ready room was the largest room in the duck's headquarters, easily several stories high and occupied by the mainframe and keyboard of the supercomputer Drake One.

Until he could find an even better (and preferably even bigger) spot, his new spot gave him more space to move around in. He'd had more than enough of cramped quarters, and he'd had to get out of them.

Settling in, Phil sipped his coffee. He flipped channels on a single screen. His set-up was becoming rather refined as he kept working at and getting tech points from the guys George had him working with. In fact, Phil was proud of his now. He could simultaneously record from all the cameras in the building, while being able to flip channels to view any one he wanted. Phil didn't have to watch it all anymore. He could let those editor people do that.

"Let's see what they're up to in the ready room. Grin should be meditating in forty-five minutes." Phil had watched Grin every once in awhile to see if he ever did anything but sit with his eyes closed when he meditated, with little luck so far. He wondered how the guy could still keep the fat off. Did ducks build muscle or something when they sat around all day?

Looking in on the Ready Room, for the most part, the team was talking. Or arguing.

"Aw, c'mon Mallory! Tell me where my Tonic Boy action figure is! It's Friday, and I need to take it to Captain Comics."

"No way Nosedive," Malloy said, arms folded and a smug look on her face.

"But you promised to tell me today."

"I promised to tell you in exactly a week and five days. It's not eight yet, which was when I promised then."

"That's not fair."

"It is too," Mallory turned to glare at him, "You're the one who got me covered in gooey eggs two weeks ago. I'm really enjoying my revenge, in fact, if you don't stop whining, I may have to keep you precious Tonic Man toy hidden longer."

Nosedive closed his mouth and gave her a threatening glare. She just struck up a conversation with Tanya. Right on time, Grin left for his room. Phil flipped the channels so he could watch him walk there. Phil's phone rang.

"Make it quick," Phil said, annoyed that someone would call him now.

"Hey Phil, it's George."

"Oh hey, hehe, sorry I'm on the job you know. What do you need?"

"Do you have any idea where your girlfriend is?"

Phil shrugged. "At work?"

"No, it's eight already, and she hasn't shown up. I have a lot of things scheduled today, and without Peppermint, I don't know where I'm supposed to be going. She's my main assistant!" George ranted. From long experience, Phil knew that this could be awhile. Phil tuned him out. Grin was in his room.

Grin sat on his pillows, but seemed unable to find a satisfactory position. With a big sigh, he stood. _That's unusual,_ Phil thought.

Grin walked over to his closet and opened the door. He paused. "I shouldn't. I need to keep my mind clear." He put a hand to his chin. "Then again, one wouldn't hurt." He reached into the closet and pulled out a box of doughnuts.

Phil's choked on his coffee. He gawked as Grin took one from the box, ate it in two bites, then returned the box to the closet.

"Grin has a secret stash of doughnuts!" Phil said, amazed. "Maybe it's the doughnuts that build muscle then."

"What? What's that? Pomfeather, are you listening to me?" The phone yelled.

"Ahh, my karma is balanced," Grin sat on his pillows again. Phil blinked, and realized coffee was dribbling down his chin when George came in again. "Pomfeather!"

"Yeah George?" Phil said.

Suddenly, light poured into his hiding spot and a fourth voice broke in. "All right my action figure! . . . Uh, Phil, what are you doing in our closet?"

* * *

Dragaunus glared at the trembling human before him. He walked in a circle around her, thinking about all the ways she'd fit into his mad dreams of intergalactic conquest. Or perhaps just how she would fit into his mad dreams of conquering earth. She didn't take her eyes off him for a moment, but watched him with just as much defense as fear.

"What do you want with me?" Peppermint unconsciously ran her hands over the metal-plated floor. From what she'd gathered, this one was the boss, and the one's who'd grabbed her were his flunkies. The slim green one, who had fooled her into thinking he was a man, could change into different looks. He was the Chameleon. The red one, Siege, just liked blasters.

Dragaunus stopped. "You're going to help me conquer this planet."

"What? Who says?"

"The end of my friend's energy rifle here does."

Peppermint grimaced when Siege chuckled and began whacking the palm of his hand with the rifle's barrel. "Yeah," he said, "So you better behave."

"Oh boy. . . . Well. Well, you still can't make me do anything!"

A gray saurian came into the room. His bent back and gnarled features made him a menacing figure. Secondly, the older appearance at least created the illusion of deep knowledge. One could tell this knowledge had to be of evil. Peppermint leaned and inched as far away from him as she could. "Dragaunus," he said, "I have searched our guest's car, and found these things."

A pile of items fell at Dragaunus's feet. "A roadside safety kit? Insurance, papers, junk-what's this?"

Dragaunus picked up a VCR tape in a box. He turned it several ways, examining it.

"You stay away from that ta-stuff, you overgrown lizard!" Peppermint snapped as Chameleon pulled her to her feet.

"Temper, temper. Did you mean tape, my dear?"

"No."

"I think you did. And what is it about this little black tape that's so important?"

"Nothing."

Dragaunus smirked. "I don't think so." He flicked a finger at Siege. Siege walked across the room. Chameleon twisted Peppermint's arm and Siege leveled his energy rifle at her shoulder.

"It would be quite painful to have you get hurt." Peppermint bit her lip in panic. Siege moved the rifle closer and grinned at her. She bit harder. Siege waited, knowing that this was a weak human, and weak humans bent easily to your will when they were threatened.

"It's from the Pond. I don't know what's on it!"

Peppermint gasped as Chameleon let her fall to the floor. She immediately felt disgusted with herself, but she didn't se how she could have done anything else.

"Don't know? How about we see then, hmm? Here," Dragaunus handed the tape to the Chameleon, "You're the only one who knows how to work that blasted VCR."

"Oh goodie!" Chameleon giggled, dancing his way to the VCR. His head morphed into a little kid's. "We're gonna watch a movie, heyheyhey!"

"Quit being so weird," Siege said with a glare.

Chameleon rolled his eyes. "You're just jealous."

All watched attentively while the footage of Duke's telephone conversation played, with a little voice-over by Phil saying what date this meant. Once the recording cut off, there was little else on the tape, just some television show that was half taped over.

"So their old pal Duke is robbing the museum tonight, is he?" Dragaunus pondered aloud. "I don't know why, but in any case that means he'll be alone. And a lone duck is an easy target."

"What are we doing then, lord Dragaunus?"

"We'll lie in wait for him. He'll come at dark. Chameleon, and you, Wraith, can already be in place. When the duck comes, Chameleon will give the signal, and the both of you will finish his feathers. Siege and I will stand by to teleport help in if need be. As long as his little friends aren't there already, we'll have plenty of time to get out. Then that will be one less duck who has a chance of getting in our way!"

"Hm, individualized extermination." The Wraith said. "It just might work."

"Exactly," Dragaunus said. "Of course it will work."

"Then what are we doing with the human?" Wraith asked.

"Lock her in a holding cell. For now, we must prepare for tonight. I will take care of the ransom notice for her, and we'll continue that plan later. Now get to work!"

* * *

Siege didn't speak to Peppermint as he pushed her down a hallway. Peppermint was scrambling to figure out how she could escape. The ship was getting grungier and the smell of the place worsened as they walked farther inward. Wafts of acrid and wet scents coming from the air ducts made her wonder what had died, and how stable the mechanical systems in this place were. Was the air poisonous? She sure hoped not.

He stopped her. The square hole in the door before them was striped by bars. She flexed a hand and it brushed something on Siege's wrist. It was that thing he'd used to teleport her here with, she thought. Could it take her away from this place? Could she even get it off his wrist? Biting her lip again, she felt for the clasp. Maybe she shouldn't this was too risky-oh, It had come off into her hand, whatever she had brushed. She wasn't about to try to get it back on. She carefully wrapped her fingers around it, and clenched her other hand in the same way.

The door slid open, and Siege shoved her into a small room. The floor had a layer of dust.

"Have a nice day," Siege said as he shut the door. His steps faded. He didn't return, and Peppermint could have cried with relief. She looked at the device in her hand. Here was her escape, if she could figure out how to use it. Huh. Where were the buttons?

* * *

"Phil, what are you doing in our closet?" Asked a voice.

"Eh? Nosedive!" Phil jumped to his feet. George continued to talk on his end of the phone. Phil grasped around on his mental list of excuses. "I uh, I didn't think this closet was used and I uh, uhm, had a conversation that needed to be really private!"

"So you came into this closet?"

"Uh, yea-yeah!"

"Don't you have like, an office?"

"It's just not private enough! I needed someplace really, really private. Of course, thanks to you, I'm really disappointed."

Someone chuckled casually outside the doorway. "You've got your toy back, so who are you talking to in there, Dive?" Wildwing poked his head in.

"Just this human, but I don't know what he's doing here."

"Phil! Why are you in our closet?" Wildwing gave Phil a no-nonsense glare.

"A really important phone call! But it's done now; Dive here can tell you all about it." Phil shoved his way out of the closet and barely evaded Wildwing as he tried to grab him. "I gotta run babe! This may be our big break." Phil ran into the lift. Wildwing was surprised, and he didn't recover soon enough to catch Phil. The doors of the lift closed before Wildwing got there. He pounded on them in frustration.

"Weird. He just said he wanted to be sure his phone calls were really private." Nosedive snickered. "And it just so happens that Mallory was finally finished with her revenge for that stupid egg incident and told me she hid my Tonic Boy action figure in there."

"Did my eyes deceive me, or did Phil just come out of there?" Mallory walked over to the two guys.

"It was." Wildwing said. "He's hiding something, I'm sure of it. And I don't like it." Everyone looked to the Drake One as alarms began whining. Wildwing glanced at the closet.

"There's a break-in at Future Co. Chemical Plant," Mallory said.

"What timing."

Wildwing sighed to himself. The rest of the team was hurrying into the ready room. "C'mon, we'll have to check on Phil later."

* * *

There you are, chapter two, Monday, as promised! On Friday if all goes well, we shall have the twisted conclusion.

Alori: pokes g

Daniella: Duke rocks. Duke is such a James Bond! (That's what my friend said, anyway.) He'll be more in the last chapter, too. )

Lady Silver1: Thanks, that's my aim. If you catch anything or if something seems not as good as it could be, let me know. Part of this chapter got added to because my Dad, who didn't watch the series as much, felt a bit lost in parts.

Thanks everyone!


	3. We Could Just Send Him To Prison

Eggs Benedict 

by Liashi 

We Could Just Send Him To Prison  
Also known as the Final Chapter  
In which, Duke breaks into a museum . . . sort of . . .

* * *

It was twelve hours later when the ducks returned home. Everyone had been on their feet the entire day. The break-in had been a nightmare. The guy was holding hostages, and as it turned out, Officer Klegghorn would have called the ducks if they hadn't shown up. The guy refused to negotiate with ordinary humans. Nutcase. It took seven tense hours of discussion before the guy quit threatening to blow up the whole plant and released some hostages. What was worse, he managed to evade the police. No one knew where he was now. The ducks had to get some rest. 

"Well I'm beat," Wildwing said. He didn't seem to notice Nosedive, who was leaning on his back. "What's this?" Wildwing picked off a note attached to the Drake One. "To the ducks," he read aloud, "If you see Peppermint anywhere let me know because she's vanished since this morning. No one can find her. I'm worried. Phil." Wildwing sighed and walked away from the Drake One. "I'm not dealing with it tonight. Any other time but not tonight, no, I've had my torture for the day." 

"Don't worry about it Wing," Duke said, "This is only a Friday, and I've got energy left. I'll drop by Phil's place and ask him if he knows anything more. I might be back late though, you know Phil when he's upset." 

"If you're not kidding me, then go for it. To each his own." 

"I don't know about you, but I'd rather have a machine blow up in my face," said Tanya. 

"Isn't that a regular occurrence?" 

"Whatever," Tanya muttered, annoyed. The rest of the team, sans Duke, left, each crashing in their individual rooms. 

Duke stood there until everyone was gone, then glanced at his watch. "I've got another engagement anyway."

* * *

After a quick change into a thief's clothes and a burgundy trench coat, Duke L'Orange threw a bag he had stored in his room over his shoulder and took a duckcycle out onto the dark streets. He stopped by Phil's apartment, but after knocking and ringing loud enough to wake the neighbors, he concluded that no one was home. 

"Phil's vanished too now, hm? Lovely." Bestowing a shrug at nothing in particular, he mounted the cycle once more and drove on. He had a job to do. 

He rolled to a stop fifteen minutes later behind the museum. The brick walls of the building were clean of graffiti, and by a quick touch he knew they had been sandblasted. He walked to a metal door and paused. The door opened a crack, then widely. 

"Been waiting for you, Mr. L'Orange," a security guard said. "Follow me." 

Duke eyed the valueless exhibits lining the sides of the halls. The guard stuck a key in a door and opened it into a brightly lit room. 

"Good evening, Mr. L'Orange." A man in a suit sitting at the end of a modern style conference table said. A few more men sat along the sides of the table. 

"Evening to you too." 

"How soon can you get to work on the exhibits?" 

"Just as soon as I double-check all my tools." 

"Alright then. Charlie," he spoke to the guard, "You may return to your post." 

Duke pulled out a tool belt and a small all-purpose digital readout. The man continued. 

"You're doing a real service to us you know, and-" 

Duke waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah. I'm ready."

* * *

Wildwing Flashblade turned over and wished he could relax. Something just wasn't right, there was some detail he had missed, or maybe had left undone. He couldn't sleep. 

_Being the leader is always too much,_ he thought dejectedly, sitting up. He pulled his blanket around his shoulders. _I'll never be able to relax._ The Pond was quiet. It was a comfortable quiet. He sincerely hoped the Drake One didn't go off again. Dragaunus better not try anything tonight. 

Wildwing picked up the Mask. His mind wandered over the stories of the Mask's maker, Drake DuCaine. Then Wildwing stared at his socked feet, his mind clearer. _Duke. I let him go to Phil's alone. Where was my head, we should always use the buddy system at night. Better comm him._ Wildwing picked up his comm. Duke was in his room, according to the tracker. He probably was still awake, might as well see how things went with Phil. He buzzed Duke's comm. 

"Hm." No answer. Wildwing slid his feet into his boots and put on the Mask, changing into his battle gear. He paused. 

_That's the other thing I was going to do._ Wildwing jogged to his door and out into the hall. _I was going to find out what Phil was doing in that closet._ It bothered Wildwing. After he'd agreed to do a publicity stunt for Phil, the human had wanted to be sure that Wildwing would adhere to his word. So Phil had written the verbal agreement up, and asked Wing to sign a day later. What Wildwing said, Wildwing meant, and since it appeared that nothing was wrong with the "contract" Wildwing had signed. Now . . . Phil's odd behavior, and the insistence he had seen in Phil left Wildwing feeling very uneasy. Of course, he'd had no opportunity to think much on it, what with psychopaths holding up a chemical plants. 

First he stopped by Duke's room. He knocked, and buzzed Duke's comm three times. Wildwing sighed to himself, then using the Mask to see straight through the walls, Wildwing decided Duke was definitely not around. He checked the clock. "Eleven, and it was ten when we got back. Phil wouldn't take him that long." Then something was definitely going on here, and Wildwing did not appreciate the fact that no one could bother themselves to tell him. _I'll check the closet, and then get out there and find Duke. I don't understand why he had to leave his comm._

When Wildwing stepped into the closet, he was surprised to find that the chair Phil had had was gone. He was hiding something. Wildwing rubbed his chin. He spotted some wires sticking out of the wall and laying on the forearm-high shelf. "Yeah, if I remember right, there was a TV in here earlier too. What's Phil up to?" He reached and gave the wires a firm tug. The wall moved a bit. 

"Boy my job would be a whole lot harder without this thing," he said, activating the Mask. Now he could see that the analogue cable merged into one of the many spare wires Tanya had installed throughout the Pond. He followed the wire up, and over, all the way under the high ceiling, then down into the supercomputer Drake One. Adjusting his focus, he saw it diverted into a device that was definitely not a part of the Drake One. From that, a wire came and attached into the main processing hub for the security cameras. If he remembered right, anyway. 

Wildwing took a panel off the Drake One and leaned in to see what this device was. Some kind of small, hi-tech laptop. Wildwing touched the mouse pad and the screen saver vanished. A program was recording simultaneously from the cameras in the building. He could tell-one of these was surveillance of his own room. _Phil . . . is watching us?_

Wildwing slammed his head on the low ceiling within the Drake One when a siren blared in one of his ears. He scooted out of the computer. 

Putting a hand over his aching ear, he typed at the keyboard. The alarm in the room went off. Tanya and Grin hurried up behind him. 

"Uh, how were you up so fast?" Tanya said. 

"Drake One's picked up teleporter energy at the California American History Museum," Wildwing said when he heard two more sets of footsteps. "I have no idea where Duke is. He left his comm here, and we're not waiting for him." 

He turned to the team. They stared at him like he was trying to teach them calculus, but there wasn't time to explain further. "Well, c'mon, let's rock you guys."

* * *

Duke smiled to himself as he disabled a tenth motion sensor. He was almost there. 

He slipped around a display. A guard walked by from the intersecting hallway. The guard waved his flashlight over the hall in which Duke was hiding, but he didn't walk down it. Instead, he continued on. His footsteps hadn't dulled when Duke stepped out, lept over the remaining active sensors, and rolled into his targeted destination. 

Under a glass case lay a tiara studded with pearls and rubies. Duke circled the display. It was probably weight-tripped. However, he had a feeling that that was only if the weight got lighter. Deciding to risk it, he pressed a hand down on the case. He waited several minutes, but no one showed up to indicate a silent alarm had gone off. Good. 

Something swooshed above him. He glanced up. A bird fluttered down from an overhang above and dropped behind a display down the hallway Duke had come from. Duke shook his head. He felt near the edges of the surface of the display. There were no cracks, but the material could be pressed down slightly. The case was hollow, and the trip had to be within the display. He pressed a hand down on the case again, and grit his teeth- 

A blast rang out. Duke was knocked down to the floor when something hit his shoulder. He scrambled behind the solid display stand for the tiara. A volley of shots hit the floor where he'd been. 

"Hehe, not going to return the greeting from your old pal Chameleon?" A high-pitched voice asked. 

"Saurians?" What were they doing here? Duke pulled a puck launcher from his belt. He would have snapped a comeback, but he crumpled when pain spiked down his arm and through his shoulder. It settled to a throb, and Duke realized he'd been hit by a shot from an energy rifle. Then a shot hit the glass case of the display, partially shattering it and throwing it to the ground. Duke recovered enough to drive Chameleon back to a comfortable distance with the launcher. 

_How on Puckworld did they know I was gonna be here?_

Duke paused for a moment as security guards ran toward Chameleon. He fled. "I sure could use a few droid backups here to clean out some pesky humans," Chameleon said into his comm. "What are you talking about, of course I don't have Siege's teleporter. Hurry and send me some droids or I won't be able to fry the duck's feathers!" He pressed some more buttons on his comm. "Get out here Wraith I've been fighting for three whole minutes!" 

Duke jumped aside as a something teleported in besides him. "Stay back," he warned, at first thinking it was a droid. It was a woman. She-Phil's girlfriend?-froze. "Uh never mind," Duke said when he spotted two humanoid droids appear in the hall and force the guards away from Chameleon. Chameleon advanced. 

Duke opened fire again, but also drew his saber after transferring the launcher to his weakened side. Phil's girlfriend, Peppermint, was confused. "Where am I?" 

"California American History Museum," Duke said, eying some clouds of gray smoke revolving in the air nearby. "I'd make a run for it if I were you, I'm fighting some overgrown lizards." 

"Oh man!" She cried unhappily. 

The clouds formed into Wraith. Duke had expected it. 

Peppermint crawled away. She ran down one of the halls. "Ahh, help!" 

"Hey lady, watch it!" Chameleon put a hand to his head and shut his eyes as something crashed loudly out of sight. "You busted my backup!" Chameleon spoke into his comm again. "Shape shifter to base, send me more droids!" 

Wraith had been surprised by Peppermint's presence, but he kept his focus on Duke. 

"Care to feel the short end of my walking stick?" 

"Not really." Duke parried the blow Wraith brought down. Then another, and another. 

More droids appeared, and the extras fired on Duke when Wraith forced him into the open. A shot tore his sword from hand. A sideswipe from Wraith knocked him into the corner, stunned. 

"Look like you're out of luck without your precious teammates to gang up on us." Wraith chuckled and raised his stick. Chameleon came forward. 

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Wraith." 

A puck tore Wraith's stick from his hands. 

"Stay away from our friend, jerks!" A teenage voice said. Chameleon turned in time to be disarmed instead of hit. 

"It's the rest of the ducks!" Chameleon jumped behind Wraith. The team opened full fire on the two saurians, aim accurate enough not to chance striking Duke. Chameleon and Wraith moved to cover. 

"I could have told you not to bring your silly back-up in. They picked up on our teleporter energy," Wraith moaned, reaching and grabbing his stick. "We were supposed to destroy that duck and now-" He looked up as Wildwing activated his shield and stepped between Duke and the saurians. 

"Let's get out of Kansas, shall we?" Chameleon touched his teleporter. 

"Dragaunus won't be pleased." 

Then the two were gone. 

Wildwing let down his shield and turned. Tanya hurried by him and knelt by Duke, who had a hand on his right shoulder. "You okay?" Wildwing asked. 

"Relatively," Duke replied. Tanya looked at his back and grimaced. "Be careful with my right shoulder, would you?" Duke said. "Chameleon surprised me from behind." 

"I'll say. Hey, get me the med pack out of the Aerowing, would you?" Tanya said to Mallory. 

"Affirmative," Mallory saluted and left. 

Nosedive walked over and picked the tiara from the display off of the ground. "Wow, I can see why Dragaunus was after this. How'd you know he'd be here, Duke?" 

Duke shook his head. "I didn't. Dragaunus couldn't have been after that, that tiara is a fake. The real one is on display in Beijing at the moment. The question is more like, how'd Dragaunus know I was going to be here? . . . Er, I guess I have a bit of explaining to do." Duke said, seeing his teammate's confusion. 

"He has a lot of explaining to do? Your manager Phil has a lot of explaining to do!" A frustrated Peppermint said approaching the ducks. "Those horrible lizards that attacked you jumped me this morning! In case you didn't know, they're out to slaughter you all. Here." She pulled up Wildwing's hand and clapped a teleporter into it. "I don't ever want to see those things again, I don't care if they have the water of life." She shuddered, rubbed her arms, and looked to the floor. "I just . . . want to go home. Can you find someone to take me home?" 

A security guard stepped forward. "Ma'am, why don't you have a seat and we'll call you a taxi-" 

"There's no way I'm going home in a taxi," Peppermint stomped a foot and crossed her arms. "I wanna go home with someone who has a gun!" She did, however, take the seat. 

"Well uh . . . the police should be here shortly." 

"Fine." 

Wildwing held the teleporter between two fingers. "So you're saying Dragaunus kidnapped you?" 

"Duh." 

Wildwing paused. "Do you know why Phil has been spying on us?" 

"I'll tell you anything . . . just don't hurt me." 

Wildwing softened. "We won't, I promise." 

She sighed. "It's part of a business deal Phil has with the guy I work for, George Kitzing. He's a name you might have heard when it comes to television." 

Nosedive brightened. "Hey, he's the dude behind _Saturday Night Re-runs_, isn't he?" Peppermint nodded. "Aw I love that show." Nosedive said. 

"Does it have anything to do with why Dragaunus knew Duke was here?" Wildwing turned to Duke. "And what exactly were you doing here?" 

"Mr. L'Orange!" And chronically nervous-looking man in a suit ran up, the same man that Duke had talked with earlier. "Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?" 

"Guys," Duke said, "Meet Vincent McCarran, owner and manager of this museum. I'm working for him." 

"Does this mean we won't be getting your report?" Vincent said impatiently. 

"Can I tell them what's going on first? At this point they might as well assume I was robbing the place." 

"Oh, fine, fine. They need to know now, I suppose?" 

Duke glanced at Tanya, who was still working on his injuries. "I've been freelancing for the museum as a security system developer. I break in, then tell them what they need to fix to make it harder or even impossible for someone to get in." He shrugged with his good shoulder. 

"After we heard the wonders he's already done for the Anaheim Museum of Science, I insisted on contracting him. He's impressed every developer he's worked with. His expertise has shown itself remarkable and invaluable." Vincent took the false pearl and ruby tiara from Nosedive. "In only a month we will be having the real Rupert tiara from Beijing and many other extremely valuable items on display here. I wanted to give our investors peace of mind, which I'm sure they will, when they see his improvements." 

"You've been freelancing and haven't told us?" Wildwing said. "Then how did Dragaunus know you we going to be here when not even we did?" 

"I can answer that," Peppermint said. "Two weeks ago Phil overheard a telephone conversation had that scheduled him to be here tonight. It was vague enough that Phil assumed that your friend here was going to rob the museum. He didn't want to put his publicity stunt in danger, however, so he decided not to say anything. I didn't know until Dragaunus did." Peppermint pushed a loose bunch of hair behind her ear. "It was only a few days ago that he realized he should have just let George in on it to deal with it. At our date yesterday he gave me a tape of the conversation for George. It was still in my car when that Dragaunus kidnapped me. . . . He watched the tape and decided that since Duke would be alone, it would be a good time to strike. The rest you pretty much know." 

"Whoa, back up," Nosedive put his hands in a T. "Are you saying Phil's be spying on us for two weeks?" 

"Yes, he has." 

"She's right," said Wildwing, "That's what he was really doing in that closet this morning. Somehow he's tapped into our security cameras." 

"Unbelievable," Mallory slammed a fist into the palm of her hand. "Ooh I could strangle that guy." 

"Do you think we could use the Star Sword to turn him back into a stone statue?" Nosedive asked. 

"I'm just as angry, but none of that, you two," Wildwing said. The white duck folded his arms. "Our first priority is getting Duke home. Peppermint, would you like a lift?" 

She stood. "Go home with the people that lizard is after? No offense, but-forget it! I'm going to see if the police will give me a ride." She walked off in the direction of the nearest exit. Blue and red lights were flashing in through the windows. 

"You think Phil will keep his girlfriend after this one?" Duke said, standing with his left arm draped over Tanya's shoulders. 

Wildwing shook his head with uncertainty. "Who knows? Let's just get you home. And really, can you lay off on the secrets?"

* * *

In the early morning hours back at the Raptor, All three of Dragaunus's henchmen were already wishing they lived in another galaxy. Dragaunus was barely finished taking out his wrath for everything that had gone wrong. No ducks were dead, and that woman had escaped with Siege's teleporter. 

"You fools are going to clean every inch of this ship with those toothbrushes until it glows like a bed of hot lava!" Dragaunus hovered over them with menace. "And scrub faster or I'll tear you apart, piece by worthless piece." 

"This is all your fault, Chameleon," Siege said. "How could you miss and not kill the duck when he was right there in front of you?" 

"Yeah, well I'm not the one who let the hostage make off with his teleporter." Chameleon said. 

"Shut up and get back to work. If you don't, after this the both of you will be doing all the dirty dishes!" 

"Being evil really stinks," Chameleon grumbled as he scrubbed harder, "It seems like the good guys get all the breaks!"

* * *

The next day Duke was up and around the Pond, only feeling a bit sore. Tanya had ordered him to rest. For most of the morning he relaxed on the couch in the rec room, reading. 

The remainder of the team were also spending their time in the rec room. No one was saying much. Wildwing had frowned the whole morning. The fact that he had signed the contract with Phil loomed over everyone's thoughts. Phil was going to make a TV show out of their lives, and the had to do it. This was horrible. So much for privacy, and, depending on what funny moments got selected, so much for whatever minuscule bits of dignity the had left. If Phil showed up like he normally did on Saturdays, there was going to be a storm. Wildwing still felt that without their exclusive permission given to Phil to tape them, Phil'd stepped way out of line. 

Phil did come that day, but late. He approached the ducks cautiously. 

"So . . . you know all about it?" 

"Yes. Phil . . . I, can't believe you." Wildwing gave Phil a stern look. "How could you violate our trust?" 

"I uh. Well . . ." 

"Invasion of privacy is a misdemeanor, Phil," Duke said calmly, putting down his book. "If we took you to court you could be fined and get jail time. And trust me," he pointed a finger at Phil, "You do not want to hang out for a year in a place like that." 

"Hold up here," Nosedive waved a hand, "How do you know that it a misdemeanor?" Nosedive said. 

"Well I might as well know how bad I can be without crossing the line," Duke smiled. "Kidding, I'm kidding Mal!" He held up a hand to block the pillow Mallory threatened him with. 

"Be careful with the shoulder he doesn't need you to make it worse," Tanya said. 

Wildwing got up from the couches and walked over to Phil. "We don't plan to 'report you,' but it better not happen again. I want every piece of tape you have, including what you gave to George, and any subsequent copies made by him or anyone else." 

Phil held his hands up. "O-okay babe, will do." He sighed. "I'm sorry you guys it's just . . . I didn't think when I took you on that it would entail giant lizards bent on world domination, lawsuits, and ducks who were the most finicky beings when it came to public appearances! I tried to fix my problems but . . . I knew something had gone wrong when Peppermint called me this morning and said she wanted to have some 'space.'" 

"I feel for you Phil, in some ways," Wildwing said, "But the sympathy play is not going to work on me right now. You'll give those tapes back if you know what's good for you." 

Phil frowned, then arched an eyebrow. "Well you still owe me. You promised that you'd do a publicity stunt when I found one. It's in writing! If you don't go through-" 

"But Phil, be reasonable, that's-" 

"This is perfectly reasonable!" Phil pulled out the contract Wildwing had signed and waved it in front of Wing's face. "This TV show of your lives can totally stay in line with your conditions. I'll make sure of it. Frankly, the show's nearly ready to premier. I was thinking it could be a four part special. There won't be anything in there that could be sensitive info, I promise." Phil was suave. "You're not going to go back on your word now, are you?" He waved the contract some more. 

Duke glared at Phil. "He's skipping the sympathy and going for blackmail now, Wing." 

"Phil, I think the team is going to have a meeting." Wildwing took Phil by the shoulders and steered him out the door. 

"Are you going to be a liar or are you true to your word?" Phil challenged as the doors slid shut. 

"Does he ever tire of driving us nuts?" Nosedive said. "You can't seriously let him do this, bro!" 

"But Wildwing did promise, and he is a duck of his word," Grin said factually. 

"Grin's right, I did. He's got it in writing, which makes it twice as bad. I can't just go back on it. Phil will make sure nothing's in there we can object to." 

The team asked each other solely with looks: Any ideas of how to get out of this one? 

Grin nodded slowly. "Phil promises to ensure that none of your conditions can be violated, but perhaps they already have." 

Wildwing stared at Grin, and after a long silence smiled with relief. The rest of the team watched them. "Grin . . . I think I see exactly where you're going."

* * *

"Phil, when I told you we'd do a publicity stunt, I gave you two conditions: one, that no one would get hurt; and two, that we wouldn't end up fighting anyone." Wildwing stood before a neutral Phil, hands on his hips. 

"Right. And I will make personally sure it doesn't happen." Phil said with confidence. 

"But it's already happened." Wildwing smiled. 

"Tch, how?" 

"Last night, Duke was injured, and we fought with Dragaunus." 

Phil looked worried. "What does that have to do with it?" 

"Duke's injured and we fought Dragaunus, all because of a tape you made for the publicity stunt. Peppermint told us all about it. You we negligent. Therefore, my terms have already been broken. Find another stunt Phil, because we're not doing that one." Wildwing pulled the contract from Phil's hands and pointed to the bold words on the paper. 

"You-aw man, you're kidding me!" Phil grabbed it back. "I knew I should have left those off." 

"Yeah, you can thank the Grinster here for his insight on this one," Nosedive said. 

"I am but one of many voices," Grin said in his typical manner. 

Hopping up, Phil pulled out his cell phone. "Yeah, well . . . then I'm gonna find you a better stunt! I'll find one so good, you'd wish you'd taken the first one!" He glared as he marched out the door. 

The ducks burst out laughing when Phil was gone. 

"I feel sorry for that guy now, but there is no way I'm letting him broadcast our private lives!" 

"For once getting injured was a good thing," Duke said, putting his feet up on the couch's armrest. He resumed his book, confident (not to mention pleased) that the emergency was over. 

Nosedive smiled. "That was an awesome save, Wing. How bout we send a nice thank-you note to Dragaunus for all the good he's done?" 

"Hey, now there's an idea." Wildwing grinned. Their privacy and their public image had lived to see another day. . . . What Phil hadn't already destroyed of it anyway. 

_**FIN**_

* * *

Whoo!!! Oh yeah, finally done!!! Hope you all made it this far and enjoyed it. Alright, thanks for reading. Hope you had fun in my little "Comedy of Errors." If you liked it, drop me a line at , or in a review, and constructive crit is especially nice. Bye! 


	4. Epilouge

Eggs Benedict 

by Liashi 

Wait! What About . . . ?  
Also known as the Epilouge  
In which, Grin makes an alarming discovery

* * *

Two days later, the ducks had returned from Phil's publicity stunt. The was enough triumph amongst them that Grin though they might be able to live off of it. It may have been a long photo shoot, but for once, it actually hadn't been embarrassing. The ducks were 'off the hook' as the humans said. 

He returned to his room to rest. They had a game that night. He sat for a few moments to collect his thoughts into the extreme calm that was his norm, then got up and went to his closet.

Grin was surprised when he didn't see his box of doughnuts. He dug through his closet, falling to his knees to search the floor. Not even a drop of icing . . .

"There was a whole fresh box in there yesterday, I know there was," Grin said to himself. He moved quickly for his size to search the entire room. He was irate enough to have scattered objects pell-mell, but that would have furthur ruined his tranquility. He couldn't possibly allow himself to do that.

He paused, then the security camera in one corner of his room caught his eye. Immediately he realized what must have happened.

"No . . . Phil."

* * *

Meanwhile, Phil Pomfeather roared down the highway with hot coffee and a box of doughnuts. He glanced at the the box and shouted in victory. 

"Haha, they may have ruined me this time, but Phil Pomfeather will never be outsmarted!" He took a doughnut from the box. Before he took a bite however, he glanced in his rear-view mirror and out the windows to the sky. No ducks, and definitely no Grin. With determination, he bit into the doughnut and savored his revenge.

"I may never have the courage to see them again, but this time, I've had the last laugh!"

Phil sped past a police crusier. The officer inside the car shook his head. That guy was doing twenty over the speed limit. "These nutsoes, why do they never learn?" he said, flicking on his lights and pulling onto the highway. Just another day in the life of this guy.

And somehow, something gave the officer a strong feeling about that.

_**THE REAL FIN**_

* * *

Constructive Crit always welcome. :) 


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